Climbs and Crossings

I used the credit I received from the  Santa Cruz Mountains Race  to enter this one when I heard about the screening of Unbreakable in San Francisco the night before. What better way to get pumped pre-race than to watch a film documenting the Western States 100 and be in the presence of director JB Benna and elite ultrarunners Hal Koerner, Geoff Roes, and Tony Krupicka. Driving into Huddart Park the next morning I saw, off in the distance a bunch of people standing around in what appeared to be a giant line. Look at all the people over there, wait, what are they doing? Is that a line? Is that the BATHROOM LINE? That can't be a line for anything that's way too many people to be a line for something.  It was a line. And it was the check in line for runners to pick up their bibs. The bathroom line was pleasant and only a few people long. I got at the end of the check in line. Fifteen minutes later I hadn't moved and there were about 50 more people behind me.   The funn

The Half Marathon formerly known as the Stockton Half Marathon. Kind of. It's the same course. A month earlier than last year. Organized by different people. And called something different. Confused? Me too.  I hadn't run a Half road race since this one...or this other one in Stockton around this time last year. Since the course was the same, my only goal was to beat my time from last year. I figured with all the trail time I've put in, it should have been a breeze. I'll cut to the chase. It didn't happen. And it didn't happen by about 6 minutes.  At the start. I'm the head in the middle, smiling like a dork.  How many of you have race photos that include orange plastic fencing AND a big rig?  I do enjoy being able to ignore posted signs. Road closed? I don't think so.  The point is not to put Stockton on blast for not being the most scenic place to run. Or complain and theorize about why  it wasn't my day or even to dwell on and feel dis

Normally after a race I can't wait for the race results to be posted online. At this point I'd just be happy with an explanation of what the heck just happened. Also, I want my money back. We drove to Santa Cruz on Saturday to spend the night since it was a good 2 hour drive, and I had come down with a cold in a bad way. Fever, runny nose, all of that stuff. I managed a half day at work and we hit the road. All I wanted to do was sleep. So that's what I did. In the car and in the room...later on we ventured out for dinner. We found a great Irish Pub in downtown Santa Cruz. Rosie McCann's. Red wine kills cold germs, right? And Ghirardelli chocolate cake with vanilla bean ice cream definitely kills cold germs.  Back at the room I checked my email, where I found the usual day before the race email from PCTR linking to race day instructions. The 29 and 50k were taking off at 8:30 and the 21k at 8:40. Bib pickup ended at 8:15. (I was going to also link here to t

The Elevations! Many factors contributed to the fact that today was an all around fabulous race put on by Pacific Coast Trail Runs. My number: All 4's.  This led to a certain annoying commercial popping in and out of my head the entire race. If you don't already know what I'm talking about, it's this one... So I often found that I was saying 444 - 44 44   over and over again in my head. It was kind of an annoying mantra that kept my legs moving...and made me want to offer legal help to my fellow runners.  The scary bathroom line. The bathrooms, not the line.  I had exactly 1 minute by the time I got through the line and exited the bathrooms until we were called over to the start.  Last minute weird looking stretching.   The best thing about this course is the fact that it's mostly single track surrounded by giant redwood trees and ferns. The air has that beautiful smell of mulchy soil and eucalyptus. The temperature is cool except for th

June was my last race. I needed a pick me up, a motivational boost, a challenge, a test, something to kick my own ass. This was that.  Looking at the elevation profile I tried to convince myself it looked easier than my previous 21k at  Tilden Park  where I used such descriptive terms as "surviving death", "treacherous", "dying for salt", etc. Eventually, I stopped kidding myself and accepted my doom.  Saturday morning, still dark, we were on the road toward Martinez. Obviously there was a Starbucks stop along the way before arriving at beautiful Briones Regional Park for my first run with Brazen Racing. I picked up my bib, timing chip, t shirt, and goody bag... Taken by a volunteer, this is me probably waiting in line, definitely contemplating  my life's purpose.  went to the bathroom about 800 times, laced up, geared up, vaselined up, and I was ready to go.  My prayer to the running gods was clearly working.  Here's some fore

WHEEE! I'm running the creek crossing,  but really I hoped this would be "so congested" that I would "have to" run through the creek. You know,  because running through the creek would just be the "smarter" option. So actually I'm a little disappointed right now even though I'm having the time of my life. I really just wanted to splash through that water.   Highstepper.  Going downhill is a controlled fall. This race finally convinced me to admit I'm a strong downhill runner. The uphill, on the other hand might be an opportunity for improvement.  Dipsea was an amazing and unique race experience, but it was also one of the most beautiful trails I've run. Ever. TRUE. 

Somewhere along the grueling uphill called Cardiac I ran up on a small blonde kid who couldn't have been more than 8 or 9 years old. He was walking. As I started to move around him on the left, he threw a quick glance over his shoulder at me and took off running. A couple minutes later I caught him again, walking, and again, he took off as soon as I got close. This would continue a few more times until his "take off" wasn't much faster than my slow trod up the hill. His stride was getting shorter, his pace slowing, and just as I thought he was finally going to give up and let me go around him we came to a pretty large tree trunk laying across the trail. This kid, that was looking like he was done for, and who can blame him after what we'd all been through in the previous miles, didn't miss a step. Propelling himself into the air with one foot, he landed on top of the tree trunk with the other, paused to get his balance and then jumped straight up into the